Chapter 9: Like a Deep Lake
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 9: Like a Deep Lake
Thesalos Wolcher was dead. The other lords had already retreated, their carriages rattling away in a frantic hurry.
Only Ruri and Ferda remained at the association headquarters.
“That was truly magnificent.”
Ruri looked up at Ferda and gave him a small, mocking round of applause.
“You certainly showed them who holds the upper hand today. Impressive. Your political skills have moved beyond mastery—they’re a work of art.”
She then gave him a "double thumbs up," thrusting both thumbs into the air with a smirk.
Ferda was currently nursing a throbbing headache, a lingering side effect of mana exhaustion. He lightly massaged his temples as he replied, “It was merely an unintended consequence.”
“The result might have been unintended, but it happened nonetheless. So, what do you plan to do now?”
“About what?”
Ruri furrowed her brows as if the answer should have been obvious. “You just killed a nobleman. Even with the Archduchess of Valdrova’s status backing you, this is bound to cause a massive controversy.”
“Is that so?” Ferda recalled the reactions of the crowd. “It seemed quiet enough at the time. Is there really a problem?”
“Who’s foolish enough to point out a flaw while a man is performing a sword dance right in front of them?”
“Hmm… I suppose you’re right.”
Because the situation had been handled so smoothly, Ferda hadn't even realized he had committed a capital offense. Only now, after her prompting, did he recognize that he should probably feel some sense of impending trouble.
Seeing his nonchalance, Ruri let out a small sigh. “Furthermore, the man was one of the lords who was already fully loyal to Valdrova. This won't just be 'troublesome'; it’s going to be a disaster.”
“Was he incorruptible?”
“He was moderately clean and moderately corrupt—a typical, unremarkable man. In the Far East, that kind of mediocrity defines the most loyal of subjects.”
“Since I killed a 'most loyal subject' with my own hands, I suppose this will interfere with the engagement?”
“Obviously.”
I see.
There was a reason Ruri’s eyes were sparkling with anticipation. She was hoping the marriage would fall through.
Contrary to her hopes, Ferda scratched his cheek and replied, “The engagement will proceed as planned. If I show them why he had to die, won't that change things?”
“I suppose… but how can you be so sure?”
As far as Ruri knew, Thesalos Wolcher and Ferda had met for the first time today. Yet, he spoke as if he knew the man better than Ruri or the other lords who had lived alongside him for years.
How?
Because I already know.
If Ferda’s memory served him right, the man was likely committing a grave crime even now.
“Let’s head toward the Wolcher territory.”
“Are you planning to dig up some dirt?”
“Don’t worry. There’s a mountain of dirt waiting for us. Once it's revealed, everyone will understand.”
“Well, fine. But before that…”
Ruri flicked her finger toward Thesalos’s corpse. A thread-like distortion in the air sliced through the dead man’s neck, decapitating him cleanly. She then wrapped the head in a cloth.
“Why are you taking that?”
“We’ll need it. Regardless of the reason you killed him, he died because he ‘did something wrong.’”
Ferda nodded in understanding. “So, are you going to put it on a pike? Like they do with corrupt nobles?”
“Isn't that obvious?”
“I thought you said he was a loyal subject?”
“If you want to call off the engagement right now, feel free to do as you wish. I’d be happy to help.”
Ferda fell silent. Despite her sharp tongue, Ruri was ultimately helping him.
* * *
The Wolcher territory.
It was located at the absolute forefront of the Far East, the land most closely connected to the border armies. Simultaneously, it was the closest territory to Valdrova Castle.
“They say it’s darkest under the candlestick. So it was right here?” Ferda muttered.
In his past life, he had actually met Thesalos Wolcher in the Southern Desert. He had never imagined the man would be stationed on the Far East front before that.
As they arrived before the inner castle of the Wolcher estate, a butler came rushing out. True to his position in the household, he responded with practiced composure.
“We are honored to welcome such distinguished guests to our humble abode. Unfortunately, the master is currently away on business, so—”
“Ah, don’t worry about that. Your master is dead.”
“…Pardon?” The old butler stared at him, his face a mask of utter bewilderment.
“I said your master is dead. We’re going inside. Do you happen to know where Thesalos Wolcher’s laboratory is?”
“That… I mean, more importantly, what do you mean you killed the master…?”
“Never mind. It’s not exactly something to be proud of, so he likely hid it. I’ll find it myself.”
Ending the one-sided conversation, Ferda brushed past the butler and entered the castle. The butler watched him pass, his face still frozen in confusion.
Ruri, following behind, handed the cloth bundle to the butler and pointed toward the sky. “Hang this somewhere with a good view of the castle gates.”
“What? What is this…?”
Ruri also ignored him and followed Ferda inside. A moment later, the old butler’s scream echoed loudly through the corridors.
* * *
Thesalos Wolcher.
His was a family of mages that had been exiled to the fringes due to political issues. Much like the old Ferda, the family was consumed by intense hatred and inferiority complexes.
Birds of a feather flock together; Thesalos had been the first ally Ferda had ever taken.
Thesalos Wolcher hated the Empire.
He was a possessor of the Red Circle, and because of that, he had been treated as a pariah by the magic community and pushed out to the outskirts. Thesalos had developed magic with the sole intent of slaughtering every noble who had exiled him to the Far East.
And what was the actual result?
He did succeed, in a way.
Of course, he only succeeded in the research.
I never actually saw that magic in action.
Before Thesalos could use it—before he could even give the magic a proper name—he had died at Ferda’s hands. Just like today, without ever knowing why.
By the way, why did I kill him back then?
Ferda couldn't quite remember. It wasn't surprising. Back then, Ferda had forced himself to find things to hate, and he had acted on those impulses. To reach the 6th Circle faster than anyone else, he had been willing to do anything, eventually becoming a monster who would even kill his own benefactor.
Well, it doesn't matter.
There wasn't a shred of hesitation in Ferda’s heart. It wasn't some delusion that he was an agent of justice. All that mattered was that the current Thesalos was undoubtedly someone who would make his betrothed grieve.
Anyway, it should be around here somewhere…
Ferda scoured Thesalos’s room. The man had claimed to be dedicating his life to his research. Even while playing the loyal subject, his sinister intentions would be hidden somewhere.
As he looked around, Ferda finally spotted something.
“Here it is.”
It was right under the bed. The tiles beneath the bed weren't flush, and he could feel an alien current of air leaking through the gaps.
“He built a secret space under his bed.”
“Are you going to open it?”
“I have to. Let me find the switch. Just a moment—”
CRASH!
Before Ferda could finish his sentence, the sound of splintering wood filled the room. He turned to see the bed snapped in two and the hidden door beneath it smashed open.
Ruri dusted off her small, dainty fists. “Why bother looking for a switch?”
“…”
It was a brutally crude method, but there was no reason not to use it.
Ferda and Ruri descended the stairs leading to the basement. As it grew darker, a faint, metallic stench wafted toward them.
“The smell of monster blood.”
“You can distinguish that? You have the nose of a hound.”
“Do not compare me to such inferior creatures.”
“My apologies. But I find your loyalty quite dog-like.”
“…Are you picking a fight?”
Ruri glared at him, but Ferda didn't even react. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they stepped into a new space.
“This is…”
Ferda instinctively furrowed his brow. A mage’s laboratory is usually a mess, filled with piles of strange objects—that was to be expected. Sometimes, one even entered expecting a blood-soaked scene.
However, Thesalos Wolcher’s laboratory was cruel and grotesque beyond any reasonable allowance. Anyone with a weak stomach would have vomited instantly, but neither Ruri nor Ferda were particularly shaken.
Though the smell is hard to get used to.
Ferda covered his nose with his index finger, waiting for his sense of smell to adjust. Ruri looked up at one of the corpses and frowned.
“So this is what they mean by 'right under our noses.'”
The corpse of a soldier and a monster lay side by side on a table. Their abdomens had been sliced open, and their purple and red entrails had been stitched together with thread.
“To think the lord believed to be the most loyal was actually a Demon Follower.”
A Demon Follower.
Beings created during the Dragon-Demon War 150 years ago, sparked by the corruption of the Evil Dragon Godwin. Demon Followers were those who tracked the movements of these demons to harness their power.
“You didn't expect this?”
“I know mages can be a bit gloomy. Gloominess often comes with talent, so I tolerate it to a certain extent. But…” A deep sense of loathing and betrayal filled her silver eyes. “I never imagined he had such a sick hobby as stitching human and monster guts together.”
But as they say, betrayal only hurts as much as the trust you gave.
“Humans are all like that, I suppose.”
As a Dragon Spawn, Ruri didn't place much trust in humans. Thus, she could erase them with a blink of an eye, ending things cleanly. What mattered now was what he had hoped to gain through such a depraved hobby.
Ruri found manuscripts scattered across the writing desk. Her eyes scanned them rapidly, and she ended with a snort of derision. “The man was a total psychopath.”
“Why?”
“He was researching a way to enhance mana by using monster factors found in monsters.”
“Was he?”
“Would you like to see?”
Ferda took the first page of the manuscript she offered. He read through the summary. Only then did the memories fully return.
Right. He was trying to create Undead that were similar to monsters.
In black magic, the Necromancer branch is divided into extremes: creating one powerful monster, or summoning countless weak ones. Because they either relied on overwhelming numbers or singular quality, Necromancers were often the easiest mages to counter and suppress.
He was trying to win with both the durability of a monster and the quantity of the Undead.
If completed, it would become the ultimate magic capable of mass-producing elite troops for the Empire.
Though that wasn't what I was interested in.
Ferda’s interest in that magic had strictly been because of the Mana Cultivation Method created to use it. Monsters constantly produce mana.
But it’s junk mana that can’t be used for anything else.
Monsters were creatures that grew strong by using an overwhelming amount of mana as fodder.
However, if one could replicate that productivity and extract pure mana…
Even those without talent could reach the 4th Circle—the rank of a Mage—the moment they learned it. Through the results of this research, Ferda had reached not only the 6th Circle but had surpassed the rank of Archmage to reach the 8th Circle.
Ferda looked down at the summary page again.
If I research this…
It would provide the materials to reach the 8th Circle even faster than before, and breaking through the Circles would become easy.
There is no doubt.
It was possible. Perhaps several times faster.
As he stared intently at the summary, Ruri stared intently at Ferda.
He’s human; of course he’d be greedy.
Ruri chewed on her inherent loathing for humans. His claim about not wanting to make someone sad was likely just an excuse. Ferda had probably killed Thesalos just to steal this research for himself.
All humans lie.
Foolish creatures who live and die by their own deceptions. Since she knew they lied, there was no reason to feel betrayed.
But…
Why did this man feel different? Unlike with Thesalos, her chest felt tight.
Do I actually want to believe in this man?
Ruri bit her lip. Her pride as a Dragon Spawn wounded, she asked him directly to shake off the thought.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“This research. You could continue it. Isn't that what all mages say? That it would be a waste to let it go?”
It’s a waste, so I’ll continue it. It was a simple excuse that required no long explanation. For a mage pursuing knowledge, it was the natural choice.
However, Ferda’s answer was different from other mages.
“No.”
Ferda handed the page back to Ruri. “Destroy it all.”
“All of it…?”
For a moment, Ruri’s expressionless mask shattered. This was entirely unexpected. She thought he might hesitate at least a little, but Ferda’s answer was sharp and decisive.
“Didn't I tell you? I hate things that make the Archduchess sad.”
“And you’re destroying this magical research just for that? This could be what the world calls a 'jackpot.'”
“A jackpot is a fine thing, indeed.” Ferda nodded. “But if it ultimately leads to my fiancée’s sorrow, what meaning does it have?”
Ferda’s eyes were different. They were eyes a mage should never possess. Those blue eyes reflected a landscape of unfathomable selflessness, as calm as a deep lake.
“…”
“Why are you staring?”
“I was just wondering if you’re truly okay with this.”
“I am.”
Blue flames flickered from Ruri’s fingertips. Pure flames created by converting mana into the form of fire. If she threw them, the paper would turn to ash in an instant. Ruri’s eyes darted toward the flames and then back up at Ferda.
“…Don’t try to take it back later, okay?”
“I won't.”
As Ferda wished, Ruri burned all the research. The laboratory and the grotesque corpses used in the experiments were all engulfed in blue flames, turning into piles of ash.
It burns well.
Ferda watched the scene quietly. If it were the old Ferda, he could have completed this magic with a few months of investment. He had helped Thesalos create it before, and more importantly, it was magic he had already mastered once.
Yet, the reason Ferda gave it up was simple.
All magic reflects the personality and emotions of its creator.
And as the saying goes, "he who touches pitch shall be defiled"—those personalities and emotions eventually become the essence of the caster, leading to corruption. That was why black magic should not be learned, and why forbidden magics existed.
And that magic is rooted in anger and hatred.
Thesalos had hated the Empire. If he learned that magic, Ferda would undoubtedly be consumed by an anger and hatred that weren't his own.
So, it must be discarded.
He would not be enslaved by trivial things. He would cherish who he was in the present.
The twisted desires scattered into nothingness as ash. A mind as clear as still water brought a smile to Ferda’s face.
“It really… burns quite well.”
Ruri watched Ferda as he muttered those words. Her assessment of him was this:
An unpredictable psycho.
And she didn't forget to add one more thing.
And a masochist.
Ruri wondered what kind of bizarre combination this man was. As her unsettling feelings deepened, her expression twisted into a grimace.